


Alone Together

by ionlywritefree



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Autistic!Yuuri, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I apologize for everything I know this is Bad, I did not realize he was a bad comforter, Panic Attacks, Stimming, Viktor is understanding and comforting, did I mention Yuuri is autistic?, looking back at this I want to delete, looking back at this viktor is a bit ooc, poor Yuuri is a nervous wreak, this was just an old vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlywritefree/pseuds/ionlywritefree
Summary: Yuuri has a panic attack before a competition and it takes him a while to realize that his idol is the one trying to calm him down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is inspired by beautiful fanart of Viktor comforting Yuuri made by mecccchi on tumblr!

Yuuri was sensitive. Ever since he was a child, his emotions were as intense as a hurricane, empathy impossibly high, and he openly sobbed at any unpleasant news. As he got older, he was pressured to hide this softer side of him. He was a boy, after all, and boys didn't cry when they heard a news story about a stranger getting robbed. So Yuuri did his best at hiding his emotional outbursts... With the painful price of daily insecurity and an anxiety disorder that reared its ugly head every month or so to remind him what a failure he was at functioning like most humans.

Yuuri's skating career was revolved around being judged by others, unfortunately. If it wasn't for his friend Minako and his obsession with Viktor Nikiforov, he wouldn't have bothered skating competitively. But Minako influenced him into trying figure skating, and later the fanboy in Yuuri was determined to be just like his idol. He wanted to skate on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov. That was the only thing he wanted. If he were to have a heart attack five minutes afterwards (which was very likely if he were to ever meet Viktor), he would die a happy man.

But right now, Yuuri forgot all about his love of skating, and even his idol. It was the day of a huge competition, and, as usual, he was feeling sick to his stomach, yet having an overwhelming urge to eat. This time, though, he decided against binge-eating and regretting it hours later when he would throw it all up. He ignored his grumbling stomach and focused his attention on watching the junior ice skaters be announced.

The first skater was a 14-year-old from the USA. Yuuri didn't catch his name, but he hardly looked nervous at all. He slid confidently on the ice, and as his performance continued, he looked as if he were flying.

Yuuri felt as if he were flying, too, but for a totally different reason. His heartbeat was way too fast to be normal, his breaths came out in desperate little gasps, and he was beginning to get lightheaded. Could he still feel his legs? He wasn't completely sure. Before the American was even halfway through his performance, Yuuri bolted.

Speedwalking through groups of people, Yuuri searched for somewhere private to try to control himself. Somewhere his coach wouldn't find him and jokingly call him a cry baby. Don't get him wrong, he loved his coach, but sometimes he could be a tad bit insensitive. 

Yuuri had no idea where he wandered, but he came across a door at the end of a dim hallway. Opening it, he figured out the dark room was an empty office. Thank goodness it had a small couch in the corner for him to collapse on.

This happened too many times in his life to count, and it always got worse before skating in front of judges. He had ways to cope, but he struggled to remember them. Breathing deeply, imagining a happy place, thinking positive... perhaps stimming would help, since he knew he was too far gone for everything else.

Yuuri started to bounce his legs wildly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was glad no one else could see him like this. He wasn't ashamed to be autistic or anything, but being teased a lot for 'acting like a weirdo' didn't exactly do well for his confidence. Despite stimming usually being a comfort, it didn't help his racing heart. He was beginning to hyperventilate.

'You idiot!' He screamed at himself, 'Pull yourself together! If you keep this up, you'll miss your turn to skate! Everyone will think you're a failure!'

He felt a stabbing pain in his chest. That probably wasn't normal. None of this was. That's what he was, wasn't he? The abnormal, fat kid. He grew up and distanced himself from those who would tease him, and training did help his lose a few pounds, but he was still bigger than all the other figure skaters. It was useless to angst over something he couldn't control right now, but it bugged him all the same. People would stare at him, and it took away half his energy figuring out if they were judging his appearance or actions.

Yuuri knew he was taking things way too far, but he couldn't help it. 'You can't do anything right,' he told himself, 'why bother trying? Just stay here and hide. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll pass out so you'll have a reasonable excuse for being so weak.'

Yuuri's eyes burned, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He frantically wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, but it was no use. When he started crying, it would end only until he was physically out of tears; when he was so dehydrated he felt faint.

Yuuri hated being this way, but it's not like he had a choice. He hunched over in his seat, arms held tightly around his stomach, preparing himself for whatever was going to come next. Mental breakdown? Passing out? Death? Who knows.

Suddenly, there was the unmistakable creaking sound of a door being opened. Yuuri nearly jumped out of his skin, wondering if death was better than living through the mortification of openly panicking in front of a stranger. His eyes darted towards the door to see who was there, but it didn't matter anyways, because he couldn't see a thing. Everything was one giant blur.

The footsteps got increasingly loud and quick. This unknown person was rushing towards him. He was surprised he could hear the person's voice when he was drowning in the sounds of his own misery. Not that he could understand what they were saying, anyway. They were speaking in another language.

Yuuri wanted to tell this person not to worry, it happens often, it'll pass, just leave him alone, but he's such a mess the connection between his brain and mouth has completely frozen over.

"Katsuki Yuuri?"

That, he understood. Judging from the deeper tone, this stranger was a man, who read the nametag around Yuuri's neck to figure out his identity. Yuuri nodded out of instinct, not sure if his name was said like a question or statement.

"Hello, Yuuri," he said softly, "Does this happen often?"

It was as if he knew what was happening to Yuuri, what was racing through his mind and making him feel sick. Yuuri nodded again. 

"Can you tell me what helps you relax?"

Yuuri opens his mouth, wanting to respond, but the words were stuck in his throat. His ability to speak was gone. He hated going nonverbal at crucial times, but he couldn't exactly help it.

"Okay," the man responded after a few seconds, figuring out that Yuuri couldn't tell him anything. "I'll try some stuff that usually works for me. Competitions can be terrifying, can't they?"

Boy, could they ever. Every time he stepped out onto the ice with over a hundred pairs of eyes staring at him and the crowd eerily silent, his body trembled and he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from crying right then and there. But he never stopped. In fact, it was like he was determined to push himself even further in uncomfortable situations. Perhaps he thought exposing himself to the adrenaline-fueled challenge with his hatred of losing would help him beat his anxiety. Unfortunately, it hasn't worked so far.

'Maybe you should quit before you screw up your reputation more, you idiot,' the rude voice returned. 'You're an absolute mess, as usual. Just give up.'

His intrusive thoughts were interrupted by soft, warm hands enfolding his own. Yuuri was still shaking and sobbing and wanting to disappear, but his touch felt nice. He couldn't help but crave more contact, and he didn't even care if it made him seem needy or sensitive. He needed someone to reassure him, because even though he had many supportive people in his life, he was so alone on the ice. Usually that was a good thing. He skated to relieve the stress and anxiety others caused him. But when it wasn't just him skating at his own pace in a rink late at night, feeling alone was the worst.

The man in front of him seems understanding and kind. It's also like he's reading Yuuri's mind, because he tells him exactly what he needs to hear.

"Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. As long as you want me to, I'll stay with you."

Yuuri feels so grateful. He doesn't remember the last time someone tried to help him through one of his panic attacks. Not that he told anyone about them, anyway. It wasn't something that could be casually brought up in a conversation, like, "Oh, yeah, last Saturday I felt so scared that I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until I puked, and then I passed out in the bathtub."

"Being hunched over like that makes it harder to breathe," the man said suddenly, breaking Yuuri's rapid thoughts. "How about we lie down instead?"

He nods, and lets this stranger help him stand up from the couch. As soon as his feet hit the ground, though, his legs turn into jelly and he would have fell on his face if it wasn't for the man grabbing him and slowly lowering him flat on his back. Yuuri sees blurs of silver above him.

"Very good, that must feel better, right?" Yuuri didn't feel like he deserved his praise. It's not like he did anything to help himself. "Do you want to hold my hands again?"

Yuuri feels embarrassed but finds himself reaching for his warm hands again, squeezing them a bit to satisfy his sudden need for human contact. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he just responds with similar pressure, which feels a lot nicer than it usually would.

"Now, can you copy how I'm breathing? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Like this," he added with a deep, exaggerated breath. Yuuri thought it was impossible to breathe that slowly, but he tried his best. He was beginning to feel an uncomfortable tightness in his stomach that made him slightly nauseous. The man was now gently rubbing his hands, actually helping him through the attack. This was strange, but he welcomed the random kindness.

Yuuri wasn't sure if it's been minutes or hours, but sooner or later he was calming down. He still felt lightheaded, but his mind was clear enough to think about the consequences of his actions, and how their time was probably running out. What if this man was also a skater and was bailing the competition just to help him out? Yuuri felt guilty as hell, and it also made a new wave of anxiety rush through his body. He needed to get up- to see the time-

His struggles were pointless because the man just wouldn't let him sit up. "It's okay, lie back down," he instructed, and Yuuri found himself too tired to disobey. He heard more comforting words as the minutes past. "You have a lot of time... Half the junior skaters haven't even started yet... Just focus on relaxing... Good job..."

Yuuri eventually calmed down. His shaking ceased, his hyperventilating was reduced to a normal breathing pattern, and he ran out of tears. He was exhausted, but at least he was finally able to think straight. This is when all of his fear was replaced with embarrassment. He squeezed his eyes shut, too ashamed to look this man in the eyes.

"Feeling better?" Yuuri could now detect a strong Russian accent. It sounded familiar.

Still unable to speak, Yuuri could only nod. He would like to wipe his wet face with his hands, but they were still being held. Then Yuuri reluctantly decided to open his eyes.

He blinked once, twice, three times. He would pinch himself if he could. There was absolutely no way in hell that Viktor Nikiforov was kneeling next to him, giving him words of comfort when he should be preparing for his own performance as a world-famous figure skater. Not being with him of all people.

Yuuri is so shocked he is hit with an intense wave of dizziness that almost makes him black out. Viktor can tell, Yuuri recognizes the obvious concern on his face. "You're not going to faint, are you?"

Yuuri shakes his head, blushing madly and finally sitting up, getting a better look at this amazing... this talented... this attractive...

"Hello," Viktor flashed a magazine-worthy smile at Yuuri, making his heart pound for very different reasons this time. "I'm Viktor. How are you feeling?"

The same Viktor Nikiforov that was on countless posters on his bedroom walls was now face-to-face with him. Yuuri has fantasized befote about how him and his idol would meet. It was usually on the same skating rink. Definitely not in a small, dim office at his most vulnerable moment.

Viktor let go of Yuuri's hands only to place them lightly on his shoulders. "Of course, you're obviously not okay after that. Nothing to be ashamed of. I remember when I used to act this way, too."

Yuuri's eyes widened. Just his luck. He's finally having a moment with Viktor Nikiforov and he can't even talk to him.

Viktor laughed at his shocked expression. "Yeah, my coach would find me skating instead of sleeping every night before a competition. He would tell me to take it easy, that I was only hurting myself, but the only time I really listened was when I fell ill during an important performance. Now, I understand if you feel too sick to skate-"

Yuuri shook his head rapidly again. No. There was no way he was letting his anxiety win him over. He came here to compete, damn it, and nothing was going to stop him. Not his mental illness, his inability to speak, or even Viktor Nikiforov himself.

Viktor stared at him, wearing an expression that Yuuri could not identify. "You're very determined. I don't want to see you get hurt, but I have a feeling I can't stop you from competing."

He looked at his phone for the time, smiling a bit as if to reassure Yuuri. "We have lots of time. Although my coach will tear my head off if I don't text him back within five seconds. Also, I missed someone's performance..." Seeing Yuuri lower his head in guilt made Viktor quickly continue. "Oh, it's okay. My coach is secretly a softie deep, deep down. He'll understand. And the kid will be pissed, but he'll live."

Viktor stood up and held out his hand to Yuuri. Heart fluttering for the hundredth time, he accepted the assistance and pulled himself up.

"Do you think you'll be okay?" Viktor asked yet again. "I'd rather stay here with you to make sure, but I've got two angry people searching for me and I don't think you'd want them barging in here."

Yuuri nodded, opening his mouth to say something, anything. A 'thank you' would be great. It was just two words. One if he shortened it to 'thanks'. But no, the part of his brain responsible for speech failed him.

"Take it easy, okay? Don't hurt yourself." With that, Viktor wrapped his arms around him for a warm embrace that made Yuuri melt. Oh my goodness, his idol was hugging him. This was like a dream.

Viktor let go and Yuuri almost whined at the loss of contact. He opened the door, but then turned around to face him again, winking at him. "I'll be cheering for you, Yuuri!"

As soon as Viktor closed the door behind him, Yuuri could feel himself flying again. Although this time, he was headed for cloud nine.

;

Yuuri unsurprisingly finished in last place, but he was strangely numb to the whole thing. All he could focus on was Viktor's encouraging smile and words from earlier. He didn't even care about the whispers behind his back as he walked through the hall, still feeling lightheaded but knowing that it would pass. This all would pass.

Hoping that Viktor may return to the empty office, Yuuri left a note for him taped on the closed door.

"Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Two episodes in and I'm already obsessed. Yuuri is a chubby, adorable, autistic, anxious boy who is just trying his best! I have already cried three times over him.
> 
> Since it's only been two episodes, they both may be out of character. I'll probably end up writing more fanfic as the series goes on, though, so I will get better.


End file.
